Star Wars: The Good, the Bad, & the Galaxy
by Mr. Sketch
Summary: Chaos. The skeleton of the Republic has finally given way to the new Galactic Empire. In the sixteen years since the climactic end of the Clone Wars; discord, anger, and treachery has engulfed the galaxy. In the years before the Battle of Yavin IV, the Empire and the new-made Rebel Alliance fight for the heart of the Outer Rim, in a quiet war that will decide all things to come.
**STAR WARS**

 **The Good, The Bad, & The Galaxy**

 **CHAPTER ONE: Triangle**

 **16 Years After the Clone Wars**

 **THE SOLDIER**

 **The rain came down hard on Dantooine.**

 **Aramis Black felt it hammering against his armor. Pelting away any other noise, filling his head.**

 **It wouldn't let up, he knew that much.**

 **Neither would the sniper, waiting out there, in the rain. Unseen, unheard, and untraceable.**

 **Behind him, sitting against the carcass of an eopie, long since expired, was his prisoner; one of the sniper's pals.**

 **Sullustans were crafty, as a species. With their large, round eyes, mouse-like ears, and two sets of jowls, one wouldn't think much, looking at one.**

 **He had made that same mistake, only hours earlier, and as a result, three of his men were buried a few miles back, somewhere in the muck.**

 **Dantooine wasn't generally like this. Rain-soaked and dreary, just like he was.**

 _ **Where the hell are the reinforcements?**_

 **The Sith had directed him here from the** _ **Temerarious**_ **, and had promised an official explanation other than 'she is here'.**

 **He stole a glance at the rolling hills beyond the glade he was in. Ringed by thick, white-leaved trees and large, rounded boulders; it was almost** _ **too**_ **perfect. Not that he would complain. Not a word.**

 **Susigo Baji was the name that had been pried from the Sullustan's lips. As far as he could tell, the alien was at least past his teens; the human equivalent of about twenty. He had a distinctive flame tattoo just above his left eye, though you couldn't tell. Everything on his left side was still a little swollen.**

 **Plastoid tended to** _ **do**_ **that, when applied correctly.**

 **He checked his own status. Despite outer appearances, he was more or less in perfect health.**

 **His armor was still intact, though he was thoroughly bruised from head to heel; he had some prick with a rocket launcher to thank for that. Blew a hole in the shuttle. Killed half of the crew.**

 **Ruined his outfit.**

" **Got a problem?" The alien stared back at him.**

 **Spat out a glob of something green and pasty.**

 _ **Blood**_ **.** _ **Maybe I should hit him harder next time...**_

 **A few missing teeth went a long way, after all.**

 **"Because, to be honest, I don't want to waste bolts on you, that I could use for someone else. And I'm not going to waste rope to tie you here for the animals."**

 **The alien's head actually perked up, but then he blinked and snapped his eyes away.**

 **"You're going to die** ** _slowly_** **because I don't** ** _care_** **."**

 **The alien paled to an unnatural grey, but kept his rigid silence as he shivered in the wetness of their little glade. In the back of his head, Aramis concluded that this would be a beautiful place to live, assuming it wasn't being turned into a warzone within the next few days.**

 **If he didn't** ** _hate_** **it already.**

 **A twig snapped behind him, and he turned in time to see the branch of a tree, coming at him like white lightning.**

 **A fraction of a second later, and he would have been on the ground. The little bastard was faster than he'd given him credit for.**

 **But Aramis was faster, however.**

 **He stepped to the side, and a quick jab to the temple was all it took. Almost winced as the Sullustan smacked into the muck. Aramis knelt and felt his neck.**

 _ **Still alive.**_

 **The alien might have had courage, but Aramis could tell that he was just desperate at this point.**

 **Couldn't blame him, really. Every one of his pals was face-down in the muck somewhere. He'd shot most of them himself.**

 **And the rest…**

 **Thirsty all of a sudden; killing always left a bad taste in his mouth. He took off his helmet, one of the older, 'Phase Two' models belonging to a trooper from the Clone Wars, over a decade past.**

 **Complete with blizzard protection side plates, each with a black jaig's eye painted on, and a small antennae protruding from where his left temple would be. As he filled his canteen in the small lake, he caught his reflection in the ripples of the water.**

 **Caught sight of a crescent shaped mark, next to his left eye.**

 _ **Another scar**_ **, he thought bitterly. He had quite the collection already. It was a damn curse, is what it was. He had one from the last mission, too.**

 **And one for Mygeeto. And Cato Neimoidia. And Onderon. And Umbara. And Myrkr. And-**

 **A moan from the surviving eopie snapped his mind away from the subject. This new scar only reminded him of how much his luck, and his luck** _ **alone**_ **, had saved his hide. He went over to the pack animal and quieted it.**

 **The ship had crashed, quite unceremoniously, into a swamp. And he'd happened to be closest to the initial explosion, when the engine detonated. On the bright side, his body had covered those of three other imperials.**

 **Too bad they drowned, though.**

 **He lowered his macrobinoculars and scanned the area. Nothing.**

 **He had commandeered a survival pack from one of the dead troopers, and it suited him just fine. A black pauldron covered the right half of his chest, and he had painted his right shoulder plate accordingly to match his ash colored armor. His battle-skirt, a** _ **kama,**_ **similar to those worn by his predecessors, the ARC Troopers, was torn a bit, but usable. Gave him pride to wear it, and all that crap.**

 **He checked his comlink. Still intact.**

" **This is Black, calling any remaining Imperial forces in the vicinity. Respond." He said firmly, keeping his temper in check.**

 **Static greeted his ears, and he growled. Very tempted to just break the damn thing and ruck it to the landing zone.**

 **And being alone was an unpleasant reality. Fighting alone meant dirty tricks. Guerrilla tactics instead of formations and shields and air support.**

 **But he was good at slitting their throats from behind, and shooting them in the back. It meant- as he had been told by a cadet, shortly before his suicide- performing acts that felt more like murder than war.**

 **Which was fine by him, as he didn't especially** ** _care_** **what the difference was.**

 **At least he'd had the sense to let Lord Vader know what had happened, before long-range comms had cut out.**

 _ **Might as well try again,**_ **he thought vaguely. He squeezed his helmet back on and walked back over to the eopie.**

" **This is Black-"**

 **His words caught in his throat as something smacked into the side of his head, and Aramis was left lying on the ground, wondering who'd hit him, and if he owed the guy.**

 **His blaster was out of its holster in a millisecond, aimed in the direction of the Sullustan, who huddled against the dead eopie's carcass, his back to Aramis. It hit him suddenly.**

 _ **The sniper**_ **...**

 **Something else clicked in his mind, and he keyed his comms again.**

 **Watched as a blur swept** _**inches**_ **above his head, and vaporized a small sapling just three meters behind from where he lay.**

 **Upon catching a whiff of burning wood and cinders, the eopie gave a series of whimpers and snorts, muffled by the rain, and shuffled away into the nearby forest as quickly as it could.**

 **To his right, he swore he could hear Susigo Baji laughing at him.**

 **Aramis could only watch it go. And despite it all, he could only grin.**

 **He knew now how the sniper had figured out where he was,** _ **and**_ **how the bastard had damn near killed him. Twice.**

 **The rebel had** _ **some**_ **way of knowing when he was using his radio. And of knowing where he was.**

 **He got up, and crawled over to where his prisoner sat, with his back still turned. Aramis only made it two feet before the alien jerked around and looked right at him. Aramis remained still.**

 **The Sullustan got up from his crouched position, and Aramis saw that his face was lit up in the color blue.**

 **And then he saw what Susigo carried in his right hand.**

 **He saw the tall, lithe form of someone on the other end of the mini-holoprojector, and guessed it to be the sniper.**

 **He waited.**

 **The Sullustan walked over, gave him a tentative glance, and nudged him, not at all gently, with his boot.**

 **And he waited in the muck some more.**

" **Yeah. I think he's gone." Said the alien. Almost** _**cheerfully**_ **. Not in galactic basic, of course, but Aramis knew his way around the alien collective, and it paid to learn.**

" **Wow. He's got** _ **alot**_ **of firepower." Felt the alien crouch down again, and fingers reached into a sheathe by his left shoulder and pulled free his knife.**

 **Heard it sawing through something that sounded plastic, and watched as the cuffs he'd bound Susigo Baji with fall to the ground.**

" **I'll meet you at the base. We'll figure something out from th-"**

 **Aramis grabbed Susigo's right foot and knocked the knife from his hand, and jammed his** ** _second_** **knife into the alien's kneecap. The resulting scream caused the birds overhead to scatter.**

 **The holo-projector thudded into the rain-soaked mud as the Sullustan crumpled to the ground. Aramis restrained his blaster and hit the little bastard again.**

 **And again.**

 **And again.**

 **And** ** _again_** **.**

 **After a full minute he was just hitting the ground. He raised his fist, flinging away bits of brain matter and drying blood.**

 _ **Always wanted to be an artist**_ **, he thought, laughing. Didn't know why; the elation was a nice change.**

 **Glanced up from the carnage and spied the holoprojector. It was off.**

 **Picked it up and turned it on. It flickered at first, like a shy girl on her first swing night. But then it came out.**

 **The pale, curiously calm image of a tall, long necked, white skinned creature, with two large, almond shaped eyes on its oblong head that had white pupils, as well as particularly long, slender arms.**

 **At the vertex of its skull was what Aramis could only guess at; a kind of headcrest that reminded him of either a mohawk or a dorsal fin. Wore a vest over a sleeveless blast-proof shirt, as well as a long, leg encompassing piece of clothing typical of most of its kind; a long, flowing skirt, with a corresponding piece of elaborately decorated cloth wrapping around it.**

 **He was looking at a Kaminoan.**

 **The alien held a long, fierce looking rifle in his arms, cradling the damn thing like he was feeding an infant, and regarded Aramis with a cold, luminous glare.**

" **You know why I'm here?" He asked.**

 **The alien continued to stare. And then it nodded.**

" **Yes. And that is why you and that** ** _monster_** **must be stopped." It replied solemnly. No.** _ **He**_ **replied solemnly. The alien was male.**

" **Well in that case…"**

 **Tossed the projector to the ground and whipped free his blaster, the flare casting a crimson glow; turning the contraption into little more than steaming metal parts with a squeeze of a finger.**

" **...I don't need an introduction." He finished, holstering his weapon.**

 **He cast a long glance in the direction of the sniper's last two shots and grinned.**

 **There were people to kill. His day had purpose.**

 **Climbed onto the eopie, which had returned after some coaxing on his part. Considered burying the dead Sullustan, but thought better of it.**

 **His way was nothing without its loopholes, and he was pretty sure that self-defense counted as a morally conscious way to kill someone.**

 **Which as pretty ironic, considering what he did for a living.**

 **THE DAY BEFORE, ABOARD THE IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER** ** _TEMERARIOUS_** **…**

 **Aramis Black stood on the bridge of the Imperial** _ **Temerarious**_ **, a Imperator-Class Star Destroyer. Trying not to hold his breath; but considering his present companion, he wasn't sure if breathing too loudly was a good idea.**

 **Darth Vader stood, dark and foreboding, staring into the endless night of space with implacable vigilance, as though the whole of the universe lay** _ **just**_ **beyond the layer of glass that separated him from nothingness.**

 **The Galactic Emperor's personal enforcer. Perpetrator of every known horror and atrocity imaginable, and the enemy of the Rebellion.**

 **According to the rebels, at least.**

 **At least, that's the way the stories went. But what he'd** ** _seen_** **was a hell of a lot more convincing; more than he cared to think about, actually. Shoved the memories away and blinked into the darkness of space.**

 **Other than Vader's mechanical, hollow breathing, there was almost no noise on the bridge.**

" **Dantooine," came the deep, metallic voice, his breath a rasping hiss.**

 **Aramis turned, of course.**

 **The big, dark bastard might have been his boss, but he rarely spoke, let alone to** ** _him_** **, in person. And he could only** _ **guess**_ **what was going on underneath that mask in the meantime.**

" **Sir?" Genuinely curious.**

 **Vader's helmet rotated towards him, seeming to realize he was there for the first time.**

" **This has long been known as a refuge for people who have...similar skills to our quarry." He folded his arms.**

 **Aramis was all too aware of what waited for them on the planet. They'd heard from at least a dozen different sources that** _ **she**_ **was here. On some dirtball a thousand parsecs from the nearest hub of civilization.**

 **That's all Vader would say when it was brought up by the officers in the mission briefing. In addition to** _ **her**_ **being here, there was an unconfirmed rebel presence on the planet, and the Empire was more than ready to establish their order in the Outer Rim.**

 **But Aramis was no fool. His instincts, coupled with simple common sense.**

 **They were hunting a Jedi.**

 **He'd served with Vader before, on previous missions, when he was little more than a white-shelled cog of the Imperial war machine. He'd done well for himself since then. Commander Black had a nice ring to it.**

 _ **Commander Black. The hound of the Outer Rim.**_

 **What the hell?**

 **Grabbed his pistol, more by instinct than fear. Glanced at Lord Vader, wondering if he was going insane at the moment.**

" **Sir?"**

 **The Sith's helmet rotated in his direction.**

 **He stood just behind Vader, which was a** _ **hell**_ **of alot closer than he'd prefer on** _ **any**_ **given day. But the Sith had requested his presence, so he came.**

 **Like the good soldier he was.**

 **Now the man's voice was in his head.**

" **I did not speak to you, Commander." Said the Dark Lord flatly.**

 **Alright then. Fine.**

 **Behind them, the bridge's blast door opened, and the unmistakable sound of freshly polished boots rang out against the durasteel floor. He turned and cast a sidelong look at the five figures that walked through the door.**

 **Three of them were officers. One was tall and built like a keg, with a walrus-like mustache and a permanent scowl, much like the one Aramis wore on his face everyday. On his chest were the eight small cylinders of a major; four red, four blue. He wore the standard uniform of an army officer.**

 **The second was clad in the armored vest and distinctive helmet of an AT-AT commander, with a brutish, serious face that had been hit one** _ **too**_ **many times.**

 **The third was a round ball of a man, with bleach blonde hair, a fresh officer's uniform and a round face that bespoke feebleness and hesitation. He visibly quivered as he walked.**

 **The other two were not Imperials, by** _ **any**_ **means.**

 **One wore a dark, wide brimmed hat, which just barely hid the wearer's face. A pair of cybernetic breathing tubes were hooked into his cheekbones, which complimented his overall rugged look and dangerously calm visage. A pair of expensive looking LL-30 pistols remained in their holsters at his side, and his wrist gauntlets, the only bulky thing on him, looked like they packed enough firepower to take out an entire legion of the Empire's finest.**

 **Aramis liked to pride himself on his knowledge of weaponry from throughout the galaxy.**

 **Built-in flamethrowers, projectile launchers, and a** _ **beskar**_ **micro-cable that could be used in a countless number of scenarios. His boots, Aramis noted, packed Mitrinomon rocket boosters just above the ankles. And that long coat of his could hide any number of weapons, tools, and equipment.**

 _ **Has to be a bounty hunter.**_

 **Whoever this guy was...he was** _ **not**_ **to be trifled with. The second figure also caught his attention.**

 **Clad in black, sweeping robes, face hidden, this one was a mystery.**

 _ **Better left unsolved**_ **, he thought, resigning his curiosity.**

" **Lord Vader!" Called the ship's captain. "We're approaching Dantooine now."**

 **The Sith Lord nodded, as though thinking about something else. Aramis didn't generally try to associate with the Sith, but he couldn't help but notice things. Stoic, unrelenting, and deeply considering something.**

 **Vader turned with a flurry of his cape, staring down the newcomers. The officers snapped to attention in an instant; even the fat one. The hat fellow kept walking, muttering something towards the rigid imperials as he passed.**

 **He stopped just a few steps in front of the Sith Lord, and flicked the brim of his hat upwards, revealing his face.**

 **A Duros, with blue skin and malevolent red eyes with horizontal slits, that lacked any noticeable pupils .**

" **Evening, your malevolence. Got my money?"**

 **The Sith nodded. "You will be paid when the task is complete."**

 **The dark robed one shuffled forward as well, but stopped just a few yards from where Vader stood, and lowered himself to the ground, arms prostrating.**

" **My lord," she said. Quirked his head slightly at that.**

 _ **A woman?**_ **The Galactic Empire did not, generally, employ females of** _ **any**_ **species. Even human ones. So this was news to Aramis.**

 **Another mystery.**

 **The encounter was brief, thankfully.**

 **Lord Vader led them to the HoloCenter, where they went over the plans for the deployment. The Star Destroyer** _ **Endurance**_ **would set down on the planet, following a rapid deployment of two stormtrooper battalions into the surrounding countryside, as well as a periodical sweep of the southern continent by TIE-Bombers and corresponding V-Wing escorts.**

 **Still wasn't clear where** _ **he**_ **fit in all this, but he held his tongue.**

 **Aramis would fall under the command of Major Roran Tamson, the keg-chested bastard with the mustache, as far as he knew. The major was the commanding officer of the newly formed 16th Rapid Reaction Battalion, which was created in order to speedily combat the sudden surge of insurrection and violence in the Outer Rim.**

 **This whole** _ **fleet**_ **was practically brand new; with all but two of the vessels being fresh off the line. The** ** _Temerarious_** **remained the stalwart flagship of the battlegroup, in conjunction with the Victory-Class Star Destroyers** ** _Endurance_** **and** ** _Bloodied Spirit_** **, who formed the vanguard. Two corvettes traveled as escorts for an Acclimator-Class called the** ** _Flamesteed_** **.**

 **The fat officer, Lieutenant Bloanee, would be inserted directly into the front lines, to combat the insurgents directly.**

 **It was unconfirmed whether or not there were** _ **actually**_ **rebels on the planet, but the initial scans showed heavy clusters of thermal signatures in the southern hemisphere, which, according to the database, was primarily farmland.**

 **Perfect spot for an army in the making.**

 **Commander Marl would be heading up the armored division, leading a vanguard of AT-STs, and HAV-W A5 'Juggernaut' Heavy Battle Tanks.**

 **Vader was quite silent on the subject of the two strangers, who both regarded the mission with cold, analytical brooding.**

 **At the mention of 'the primary target', Aramis swore he saw the Duros crack a smile.**

 **And then Vader turned to him.**

" **Commander TK-921." Aramis removed his helmet,something of an antique from a war not even a decade past, and tucked it under his arm. Heart in his throat.**

 **They got a good look at his face. And his chin, more specifically.**

 **He didn't** _ **choose**_ **where he'd come from. Tatooine was a truly inhospitable place, and its native inhabitants were no exception.**

 **The** _ **Arrd'Tao'Ra**_ **was symbolic amongst the Tusken Raiders, and every male got the markings, once he completed the Trial of the Elders. Of course, Aramis was no Tusken. Not by a longshot.**

 **The Sith Lord had gone eerily quite at that.**

" **Yes Lord Vader?"**

" **You will establish** _ **your**_ **forces in conjunction with Commander Marl's, and await my...personal arrival."**

 **Aramis gave a brisk nod, and eyed the map, trying not to swallow a wad of bile that crept into his throat. The dark bastard was already giving him the shittiest feeling he'd had in a** _ **long**_ **time. And...**

 **And he was going to be the closest to the target area. But he would manage. A plan was already forming in his head to deal with anything that might be lurking beyond the treeline, which was** _ **within**_ **firing range of the landing site.**

 **His mind was somewhere else when the meeting was dispersed, and the ship went into alert status.**

 **He was a recently promoted commander, however much the** _ **actual**_ **officers sneered at him, and his unit was likewise 'fresh'.**

 **One in every five had actual combat experience, and even then, most of** _ **those**_ **men were transfers from other units; namely Tatooine, Crucival, Coyerti, and Sullust.**

 **Not exactly reassuring him on his chances.**

 **He took a breath before he crossed the threshold to the hangar.**

 _ **Here we go again**_ **.**

 **Several hours later, he was inside of the Lambda-Class shuttle, something, something** _ **Tyderi-whatsit**_ **, listening to the familiar creaks of the ship as it passed through the void.**

 **He was used to the feeling he always got when dropping into a combat zone; a certain sense of mynocks in his stomach, and a fire in his chest that was just** _ **begging**_ **him to kill something.**

 _ **Or someone,**_ **he thought vaguely, glancing at the sweltering, soaked Lieutenant Bloanee.**

 **He still wasn't used to the fat prick's pent-up stench of sweat and inconsolable worry.**

 **The other eighteen troopers aboard the shuttle, who comprised his recon element, had got the same memo, and steered clear of the nearly soaking officer as he clung to the handrail, shaking like the ship was about to blow.**

 **When the lieutenant had almost vomited on Aramis's boots, he got the feeling.**

 **He'd encountered Bloanee's like in the past. And every time, it was just a feeling.**

 **A feeling that Bloanee was going to die. Very soon. Very violently.**

 **The battle in the planet's periphery had left everyone a little chipper than usual. They had arrived in system with twenty four ships, and had come out with twenty-one.**

 **When they had arrived in the Raioballo Sector, it had been quiet. Boring, even.**

 **And then** _ **they**_ **had come, from the other side of the planet's poles. Of course,** _ **they**_ **had been expecting a small patrol group. Not a fleet.**

 **There were six ships. One of them was unmistakably a Corellian blockade runner. Their like had been plaguing the Imperial Navy from the very start. The second ship in the selection was a Rendili Stardrive Dreadnaught; an aging heavy cruiser, likely stolen from some military installation or other.**

 **The third warship was by far the largest, though it was still just over half the size of a Victory-Class Star Destroyer. At first they thought it was a** _ **second**_ **Dreadnaught, but upon closer inspection, realized that it was a heavily modified version of the former, albeit with much more firepower and maneuverability. With dorsal fins and banks of maneuvering jets, and bristling with weaponry, it was a significant upgrade for the aging warship class. An assault frigate, of sorts.**

 **The other three were transports; the Gallofree Yards Mediums that the rebel movement liked to use in their often hasty exits.**

 **The Dreadnaught went first, without much issue; it got off a warning shot that alerted the rest of the ships, however, which made the next hour all the more difficult.**

 ** _Sloppy_** **.**

 **Each of the transports had a decently numbered fighter escort of just over a dozen apiece, mostly Z-95 Headhunters and refitted Y-Wings, along with a few unfamiliar, personalized civilian vessels.**

 **The transports were going at it full throttle, so to speak, and if they continued unmolested, they would be** _ **well**_ **clear of the Imperial line before the need for a hyperspace jump was even considered.**

 **Whoever this group of rebels was, they were in a hurry.**

 **The transports went to full speed in a matter of moments, accelerating away from the fleet. The majority of the fighters broke away from the unarmed Mediums and formed a screen around the three combat vessels, while the latter began firing, despite the fact that the Imperial fleet wasn't in range.**

 **Aramis was no swabbie from the Navy, but even he could tell that these rebels were amateurs. But he knew that what they lacked in blackness of space, they more than made up for in the dirt and the greenery of any planet they holed up on.**

 **And there were undoubtedly rebels on Dantooine. As was his target.**

 **The assault frigate surged forward as the fleet's two corvettes moved in to disrupt the fighter screen. But the rebel fighters, for all their age, were still faster, and while they easily avoided the corvettes turbolasers, the assault frigate made its move.**

 **A flurry of torpedoes accompanied by an unforgiving torrent of laser fire obliterated the first corvette in less than a minute after its shields went, while the fighters suddenly switched from their erratic flying, like a light switch being turned off. They swarmed over the second corvette, and within moments, it was tearing itself apart from the inside as more torpedoes from the assault frigate gutted it.**

 **The bridge was quite. All of the officers and the ensigns and the crew were staring, mouths only** ** _slightly_** **agape as the flaming hulks of the vessels drifted towards the planet.**

 **Meanwhile, Aramis guessed that Vader was making his own calculations.**

 **As if to answer his own questions, the viewport suddenly got smaller as a shadow passed over it, darkening the interior of the cabin. The broad, triangular prow of the massive Imperator-Class Star Destroyer** _ **Temerarious**_ **filled his vision, and one of the scouts behind him whistled appreciatively.**

" **Ignore them," Aramis growled. Didn't have time to watch the swabbie's put on their fireworks. Had a job to do.**

" **Take us in," he said to the cockpit.**

 **The two pilots exchanged a glance, and accelerated the shuttle forward, towards Dantooine's broad, tan and green surface.**

 **Meanwhile, he kept his eyes glued to the outside of the shuttle's cabin window.**

 **The Star Destroyer was ahead of them in a matter of moments, and suddenly, the cabin was filled with luminous, erratic green light, and he vaguely heard the muffled** _ **thumps**_ **of imperial quad-lasers unleashing their barrage.**

 **The Star Destroyer's bottom hull opened, revealing the hangar within, lined with hundreds of waiting TIE-Fighters, which streamed out into the black of space, and into the crimson torrent of the rebel ships.**

 **Already, the enemy dreadnaught was beginning to list, with a dozen different fires along her port side and at least two failing engines. The three dozen fighters or so moved to defend the dying capital ship, which fired its weapons in a wild flurry as it's gravity generators failed, and the vessel slowly descended into Dantooine's atmosphere.**

 **The reckless waste of firepower only succeeded in catching a handful of the rebel's own starfighters in its wake, and any that weren't destroyed outright tumbled helplessly out of control, smashing into their own clustered wingmen in an explosive chain reaction.**

 **Only two minutes had passed.**

 **The overall rebel fighter force had been reduced to just over a dozen, and the survivors quickly dispersed; half turning around and accelerating towards the planet. Others split off in the direction of the fleeing transports, which Vader had assigned a pair of ships to hunt down; a single Acclamator-Class assault ship, and the lone Immobilizer 418 cruiser of the fleet.**

 **The rest made a beeline for the** _ **Temerarious**_ **, opening up with everything they had.**

 **At which point another, smaller TIE squadron emerged from the ship's underbelly, led by a dark blur that vaguely reminded him of a bomber model. Or something.**

 **Within seconds, the lead TIE-Fighter blasted through the rebel ships, leaving the last two surviving craft, a Y-Wing that was visibly straining, and a larger civilian craft that Aramis recognized as a Corellian YV-666 freighter, to turn tail and flee.**

 **The smaller lead fighter broke formation and pursued them with inspired persistence.**

 **The Imperator-Class currently attacking the enemy was the largest of the combined Imperial warships, and therefore had the most armor, the most weaponry, and the most troops to deploy.**

 **Nonetheless, the other sixteen Star Destroyers waited in, of all things, a defensive formation, with the exception of the** _ **Endurance**_ **, which steadily moved in from behind the bulk of the flagship towards Dantooine.**

 **The now fully engulfed dreadnaught was plummeting downwards, and beyond, just** _ **barely**_ **within visual range, were the transports. Two were already under fire, and being defenseless, had no means of defense other than running away.**

 **The third one was beyond anyone's range at that point, and in a blink and a blinding flash of its engines, it was gone to the dimensions of hyperspace. The Immobilizer, meanwhile, had done its work.**

 **The other two transports were taking a hell of a beating, and one was already beginning to implode. A number of flashes along the port side signified escape pods, which rocketed towards the planet.**

 **The** _ **Temerarious**_ **, meanwhile, was broadside to broadside with the assault frigate and the blockade runner, trading a staggering amount of firepower. At this point, the** _ **Endurance**_ **was past the battle, and descended without interference to its intended landing zone.**

 **He got so lost in it all that he didn't even notice.**

 **Motionless, the** _ **Tydirium**_ **floated through space; a silent witness to the slaughter.**

 **Aramis was clutching the finger bones around his neck, lost in thought. A token from the madman who'd taken him and made him into what he was. It was a stupid habit; he only ever got to four.**

 **As laser bolts streamlined the cabin and explosions sent ripples through the hull, it was all he** _ **could**_ **do. And then something spinning and quickly falling apart filled the cabin.**

 **And promptly exploded. Aramis snapped out of his phobic daze and yanked free his pistol.**

" **Pilot! The** _ **fuck**_ **are you doing? Get this goddamn ship moving! Now!"**

 **He fucking** _ **hated**_ **flying.**

 **MEANWHILE...ABOVE DANTOOINE**

 **THE GIRL WHO DARED**

 **Bliss Bindi screamed as she fought her own starship.**

 _ **That son of a bitch**_ **.**

 **She was tempted to actually** _ **look**_ **at her attacker. But Vorcho, her gunner, was in the way. Roaring in his typical outrage as he squeezed the trigger on the Y-Wing's secondary bubble turret.**

 **The BTL-B was an older model, despite its proficiency in the Clone Wars, and she had hoped that the starboard stabilizer would hold.**

 **She regretted her lack of hindsight now, watching it disappear behind them in a fiery spiral as they broke the planet's atmosphere.**

 **Her fighter's scanners still showed the mystery TIE-Fighter behind them, accompanied by another four standard issue models that had yet to fire. Something imploded inside of the cockpit, and she screamed as she lost all feeling in her left hand.**

 **Behind her, she vaguely heard Vorcho's voice yelling at her. The Dug meant well, but he was still a prick about it.**

 _ **Like everyone else in this fucking rebellion.**_

 **Another stream of green flame flashed past her cockpit.**

" **Incoming!"She managed to scream.**

 **Before gravity launched her head forward into the-**

 **Something crusty but still moist fell onto her cheeks as she snapped her eyes open. A glance outside, and clouds were rushing past her.**

 **The wind roared in her ears, and she realized they were falling. Velocity pinned her head to the seat, and she vaguely noticed that her main control toggle was gone; snapped off at the stem.**

 **She strained.**

 **To get.**

 **Her head.**

 **Up.**

 **It was like having a full grown bantha on her spinal cord.**

 _ **My neck is going to snap**_ **.**

 **She pushed harder, getting her good hand beneath her chin.**

 _ **I'm going to die.**_

 **Began to shove against the ruins of her dash.**

 _ **Is my arm on fire?**_

 **Her arm was on fire. And then it** _ **all**_ **came rushing in. She screamed. And screamed. Hot tears streaming down her face as she writhed against the force pinning her down, and sobbed helplessly as the ship tossed and turned, end over end, smacking her head against her seat.**

 **And the dash.**

 **Then the seat.**

 **Something warm flew out of her nose.**

 **Then the dash.**

 **And she screamed some more, desperately trying to move the useless limb as the fire burnt through her orange coveralls and seared into her skin, and her nose filled with the acrid smell of cooked skin.**

 **Her...vision….was...starting...to...blacken….**

 **The pain was what brought her out of it. That, and the sound of the ball-turret going full auto, sending a rhythmic shudder through her bones .**

 **It was the most glorious sound she'd ever heard in her life.**

 **And she found she had the strength to push up, after all. Her vision came up red, and for a moment she thought it was oil on her goggles. Then she coughed.** _ **Hard**_ **. And something hot and runny and red splattered on her controls.**

 _ **Fuck me. I really am dying.**_

 **With her good hand, she ripped a piece of cloth from her collar and smothered the fire, clenching her teeth so hard that she tasted something bitter and copperish.**

 **She turned her head and spat it against the window.**

 **And then she saw it.**

 **Not even a mile away from her ship, falling at the same bone-shattering pace, was a TIE-Fighter. She smeared away the blood on her windshield, and confirmed it.**

" **That son of a bitch!" She roared, more out of anger than out of fear.**

 **It was the exact same ship that had shot them down. Which could only mean that…**

" **Vorcho! You beautiful bastard, you did it! You-"**

 **She managed to turn her head towards the gunner's seat.**

" **AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"**

 **The bloody, lifeless head of the Dug greeted her, mouth sagging and reduced to a flame charred maw that dripped brown blood onto the glass of his gunner's seat.**

 **Saw a snapped, bloodied bone, and quickly turned away, realizing that it was all that remained of her partner's neck, which was only connected to Vorcho's head by a horrid string of tissue, as he pulled the trigger.**

 **Dying reflex. It** _ **had**_ **to be. Because Vorcho's corpse wasn't hitting** _ **shit**_ **.**

 **She numbly forced herself to push her partner's head back into his seat, where it flopped and bounced as the wind continued to tear the ship apart.**

 _ **Forget this!**_ **She thought desperately.**

 _ **I'm gonna live!**_

 **She slowly unstrapped herself with her good hand, absentmindedly grabbing her pistol from its rack to her right and shoving it in her holster. She checked her harness.**

 **The chute was still there. Then she caught a glimpse of the ground.**

 _ **I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die.**_

 **Without thinking, she fumbled for the harness and thumbed the ejection button. And then suddenly, she was grabbing at nothing as the wind rippled past her.**

 **THE FALLEN ONE**

 **He'd been in worse situations. Of that he was certain.**

 _ **"...my brother Anakin! I loved y-"**_

 **He shook his head, dismissing the memory to the black matter of his mind. He had more pressing issues to think about at the moment.**

 **Like how large the ground was becoming. The trees below were no longer toothpicks, and the mountains and hills were no longer small ripples in the sea of green and brown and blue. More obstacles in the way.**

 _ **Obstacles exist to be**_ ** _overcome._**

 **The spherical, almost** ** _cramped_** **cockpit of his X-1 Prototype did little to ease his tension as the wind howled against the hull outside.**

 **It had been a simple matter of fixing the spinning, though the velocity and sheer speed at which it was falling stopped him from controlling his ship's descent.**

 **Shot down by a common terrorist. Unworthy of a Sith Lord.**

 **He cast a glance at the Y-Wing across from his ship. Reached out with the Force. Found a single survivor. Which mean that either the gunner or the pilot was dead. He'd seen enough of the craft in action to know.**

 _ **Too**_ ** _many_** **, he thought vaguely. No matter. They were dead, and dwelling in the fallen was as useless as-**

 **It came to him that he should be departing. No other option.**

 **He released the safety harness, and raised his hand to the round window.**

 **The sound of the glass shattering into a million shards was lost as the turbulent wind rushed into the cockpit.**

 **He would've welcomed the feel of the wind on his face, but-**

 _ **"HENCEFORTH! YOU SHALL BE KNOWN-"**_

 **Damnit. It was getting worse. It was** ** _always_** **getting worse.**

 **Without another moment's hesitation, he pushed free of the cockpit.**

 **And soared upwards, the air rippling through his clothes and carrying him away from the falling starfighter.**

 **He focused on his hands, and keeping his body rigid. He gradually steadied, and soon his fall turned into more of a controlled glide. He would make it.**

 **Below him, the X-1 smashed into the ground, sending matte-black metal and solar panels flying in all directions.**

 _ **"If he was your best, you are not yet fit to serve the Emperor!"**_

 **His boots collided with the ground, and a cloud of dust and leaves went up into the air, shrouding his amorphous black cape, remaining for a few moments before settling back down to the earth.**

 **And he breathed deep, for the fist time in several minutes.**

 **A second explosion snapped his attention to the right. The Y-Wing had impacted the dirt, significantly harder than he had calculated.**

 **He followed the pillar of smoke skyward. And his eyes found the parachute.**

 _ **Unexpected**_ **, he thought, watching the limp form attached to it sway in the wind.**

 **And irrelevant.**

 **Another meaningless, deluded soul for him to extinguish.**

 **"** ** _Killer of younglings. Betrayer of friends. Destroyer of the Jedi to whom-"_** **He quelled his mind, vowing not to let the rage come free.**

 **Then there would be nowhere to run.**

 **He rose from his crouch, and a thrust of his broad shoulders removed the dust clinging to his frame.**

 **He was tempted to wait for the survivor to land, but the unmistakable wine of a failing engine directed his view farther up. He recognized the blockade runner from earlier, with the word 'Stalwart' inscribed in bold golden paint on its prow.**

 **Its main guns were pouring crimson streams of light towards an unseen attacker, which rained more than five times as many emerald green bolts at the small corvette, every tenth round scoring an explosive hit on the burgundy colored hull.**

 **Without warning, the right half of the ship exploded in a mushroom of fire and flying metal, and the corvette began to list heavily to the left as more emerald bolts of fire peppered the ground beneath it.**

 **He heard several distinct** ** _thumps_** **, and one by one, about ten small circular objects launched from the ship's port side. They screamed into the air, and soon disappeared behind the rolling hills to the west. The ship was still five miles above the dirt, so the pods stood to impact, quite** ** _hard_** **, into anything that got in their way.**

 **As if on cue, another pod, perhaps delayed in its exodus, jettisoned from it small holding bay, streaking into the afternoon sky.**

 **And straight into a small plateau, exploding into a fireball that devolved into little more than a few burning piles of ash and clothing.**

 **How pathetic.**

 **This so-called 'Alliance' was no army. Of** ** _that_** **he was abundantly clear.**

 **But all the same, what they lacked in space was more than made up for on the ground.**

 **Had almost two thousand dead stormtroopers so far that supported the concept.**

 **He scanned the plains. Beyond a few flat hills, a herd of indigenous creatures that reminded him of horned dewbacks trampled their way across the plains. Beyond** ** _that_** **was a trio of tall, cream colored poles, each affixed with three spinning rotors.**

 _ **A farm.**_

 **Which meant farmers.**

 ** _So much for being 'uninhabited'_** **.**

 **Also irrelevant. They would submit. Otherwise...**

 **He straightened, and his hand drifted to his side, where his weapon hung, waiting.**

 **His wait, however, was over.**

 **He started forward, eyes on the horizon. Perhaps today would show him promise after all.**

 **A promise of fire.**

 _ **"-you would bring balance to the force-"**_

 **And of blood.**

 **AT THE SAME TIME, IN THE SKIES OF DANTOOINE**

 **THE GIRL WHO DARED**

 **She was going crazy. Had to be.**

 **She had** ** _not_** **just seen some big, black armored shadow jump out of a falling TIE-Fighter.**

 **In mid-air, no less.**

 **She had** ** _definitely_** **not seen him land on his feet, without so much as a scratch.**

 **It was probably the blood loss.**

 ** _Oh, crap_** **. She wiped her forehead with a grimy, ruined sleeve.**

 **She had counted less than twenty seconds since she had managed to crawl free of her malfunctioning cockpit. The chute had done it job. But now she hung there, watching the ground get closer. Made her head swim. She looked out, beyond, trying to take her mind off of the pain.**

 **Then a thunderous** ** _crack_** **jumped her attention to the ground. The Y-Wing had stopped falling. Bits and pieces were still falling, but for all intents and purposes, it had stopped.**

 **And then the ground was at her feet, and she frantically stabbed her boots into the dirt as the chute carried her forward, driving a furrow in the ground behind her. Her head was still swimming, but she was sure it wasn't oxygen deprivation.**

 **She stomped down, trying to gain a foothold as her boots smacked against hard dirt and rocks and brambles and-**

 **A rock rose up to greet her kneecap. She but down, hard, as a scream tried to force its way past her lips. Shit, that** ** _hurt_** **.**

 **Bit down hard enough she almost felt her tongue snap. Something thick and copperish welled in her mouth, and slowly snaked its way down her chin, pooling in the collar of her white nylon vest and staying there, reddening it.**

 **Her feet began to drag as it got harder and harder to keep her eyes open.**

 **Vision dark around the edges. She shook her head. Blinked. Didn't help.**

 **Darkness was still closing in. Losing battle with hyperventilation.**

 **A tree was the only thing she could see, glowing in the sun. More brambles scratched at her legs as she drifted barely a foot above the ground.**

 **Everything becoming...a blur.**

 **Chin was dropping...going...going...**

 **Darkness.**

 **SOME TIME LATER...**

 _ **Pain**_ **.**

 **That was her first thought. She stirred, but not by much. Everything was cramped and sore. Or numb.**

 **The haunting whistle of wind echoed in her ears, and she vaguely heard the sound of leaves rustling. Still dizzy.**

 **Cool breath filled her lungs. Something warm and synthetic smelling was clamped over her mouth and nose.**

 **Grogginess was still there, but lifting fast.**

 _ **Maybe I'll just sit here a while and-**_

 **Then the thought of a black-clad figure jumping out of a falling TIE-Fighter flashed through her head.**

 **And she sat** ** _all_** **the way up.**

 **The first thing she noticed was a pair of hands. Not hers. Stuffed inside her rucksack and ruffling through her personal belongings.**

 **Attached to the pair of gloved hands were a pair of gray arms that led to an even grayer face, which possessed narrowed, amber eyes. And-**

 **Well, she tried** ** _not_** **to stare, but the back of the alien's head was composed entirely of long gray tendrils, with other much smaller, thinner ones attached to its noseless, stern face, like a fleshy goatee. Almost mistook the thing for a Twi'lek. The tendrils twitched, but did little else.**

 _ **A Feeorin?**_

 **The hell was a quad-skin doing here? And why was it-**

 _ **No, him.**_ **The alien was male. And she tried not to bristle when she realized her jump-suit was gone, with only a very sloppily wrapped cloth covering her chest. Not that it made her any** ** _less_** **pissed off.**

 **She fucking hated** ** _men_** **. So naturally, her good hand started drifting towards her blaster. Only to grab at empty air as her fingers brushed over empty leather.**

 **"You weren't using it, rich girl." Came its voice, curious, drawl, and bemused. Her eyes followed its frame, searching.**

 ** _There._**

 **Prick had it stuffed in a small holder on his chest. He was dressed in what she had perceived as a mechanic's garb. Now, at a second glance, it was much more than that. He had a large metal cuirass that reminded her of a tanktop, with a bulky bandoleer draped across the front. Coupled with torn, baggy cargo pants and the tip of a rocket launcher peaking over his shoulder.**

 _ **Rich? How could he...?**_

 **A glance at the ground next to him, and she knew her secret was up.** ** _That's_** **why he'd been looting her.**

 **Before she could say something, she remembered the breathing mask strapped to her face, and saw the small battery next to her legs. She breathed in again. The air was delicious.**

 **But the mask was beginning to leave a moist itch where it touched her face, and she slowly dragged it off. Noticed she still had her helmet on.**

 **She felt her legs, which still tingled with the needles of receding numbness. She noticed the hands, now free of the gloves, coming towards her, and she reflexively smacked them away.**

 **The grey threw her off.**

 **"Relax, rich girl," cooed the alien, who reached for something behind him, pulling out an object that glowed in the sun.**

 **Bliss recognized it instantly.**

 **"Give me that!" She snatched it out of his hand, holding back the urge to hit him.**

 **The round black eyes regarded her with cool casualness. His right eye had a distinct pair of metal rings just above it, pierced into the brow.**

 **"Give me my gun, sleemo," she snapped, raising her hands protectively over her breasts. Wherever her strength had gone, it was coming back.**

 **She shoved herself straighter. The alien noticed her hands, and smiled.**

 _ **If that motherfucker even thought about touching-**_

 **"Seriously,** ** _relax_** **. If I'd wanted to," he looked her up and down, like a predator eyeing fresh meat.**

 **"You wouldn't have even known," finished the Feeorin calmly. Like he was talking to a child.**

 **About to say something when his words clicked in her head.**

 **She hated it when other people were** ** _right_** **.**

 **She sighed and gently took her blaster from him, resigning any indignation she was preparing.**

 **"You got a name, rich girl?" The alien crouched back down and pulled free the** ** _other_** **part of her luggage. Her chest started getting a little tight.**

 **"Because anyone with** ** _this_** **much money has a name." He held up the small, heavily loaded little satchel, shaking it for effect, and cracking a sly grin as its contents jingled like an overture of incriminating bells.**

 **She noticed that it seemed just a** ** _tad_** **lighter than it should have.**

 **"My father showed me what to do with thieves," she said, trying to add some** ** _real_** **hostility to her voice.**

 **The gray alien shrugged, motioning to the breathing unit and its battery.**

 **"That shit isn't free, little lady. I just deducted a small fee, for my services."**

 **Fine. Not like it put a dent in what she had. The Feeorin tossed the satchel at her feet.**

 **"So about that name-"**

 **"Just call me BB." She said flatly. She tugged off her helmet, freeing her stiff, impossibly curly hair, which slowly unwound to cover her neck. He might know she had money, but if he knew...**

 **No. She'd just have to take it as it was, and hope he didn't know anyone on Naboo. Which, as she watched him kick an unresponsive piece of equipment and growl in an alien tongue, was becoming more and more likely.**

 **He held out a hand.**

 **Screw it.**

 **She took it, and suddenly she was standing. Gray-skinned prick was stronger than she thought. Made her a little dizzy.**

 **"I'm Dom." A yank of his arm, and they were shaking hands.**

 _ **Dom. Maybe I'll remember that.**_

 **The thought itself brought forth another memory flash. A flash of escape pods, and something scrolled on the side of a falling ship-**

 **"The** ** _Stalwart_** **!" She swung her head towards the hills in the distance, where several pillars of smoke were still visible.**

 **The alien was already nodding as he bent down and retrieved his rifle.**

 **"Yep. And you're the only survivor I've met so far that's..." Kinda trailed off at that.**

 **God she hated indifference on a nice day.**

 **"That's what?"**

 **"That's been** ** _whole_** **." Dom finished. Then he stepped aside, revealing a short row of dirt mounds a few yards away, each with a small talisman sticking out of the top. She got it now.**

 **She could only look. They were all strangers, those five. Hadn't really had** ** _time_** **to know anyone besides a choice few soldiers and pilots who shared her frustration. A bunch of jokers, lifers, and crazies.**

 **And now they were just bodies, covered in dirt.**

 **Just...gone.**

 _ **Gantu...**_

 **Her resolve came back. She still had one friend, and one commanding officer, left. Hopefully. The Selkath had been aboard the** ** _Stalwart_** **before everything had gone so** ** _completely_** **fucking wrong. The Alliance's 31st Mobile Infantry was lacking in experienced combat engineers, and Gantu Mahu was one of the few.**

 **The Empire was supposed to be sending a supply convoy here, to establish a base on the planet. Not a goddamned Star Destroyer. Let** ** _alone_** **a fucking fleet. The** ** _Hammer_** **hadn't stood a chance. After the biggest of the Imperial ship had blasted the** ** _Triumph_** **into so many enormous chunks of metal. It was running away too.**

 _ **Fucking liar.**_ **The thought was just now confirming itself, and it was only making her angrier.**

 **After** ** _that_** **happened, Commander Forrester lost it. Made a beeline for the planet with a handful of other panicked pilots. She had been part of the escort for the** ** _Sweet Gal_** **, one of the round Gallofree transports that were leaving with enough soldiers, supplies, and vehicles to mount an** ** _actual_** **resistance, in the Kashyyyk System.**

 **The Wookies were some of their most steadfast allies, after all, and many of the bad tempered, fur-covered giants were the best warriors the rebellion could put on the front lines. And the thick bastards loved** ** _every_** **second of it.**

 **But the Imperials came. She was sure that the** ** _Celeste_** **was gone; it had just waited there, right beside the** ** _Sacred Staff_** **as the Imperials closed in.**

 **It didn't matter now.**

 **"Well come on, rich girl. We don't** ** _got_** **all fucking day."**

 **Putting aside the tidal wave of euphoria that pulsed in her temples, she pushed back up, and up some more, until her boots were flat on the ground.**

 **Dom started to laugh. And he was staring at her.**

 **"What?"**

 **He was still laughing.**

 **A cool breeze caressed her bare skin.**

 _ **Well now he's just being an asshole**_ **.**

 **"WHAT? THE HELL IS SO GODDAMNED FUNNY?"**

 **All it took was a slight shift of his eyes, so** ** _very_** **alien. Then she looked down.**

 **She couldn't tell what was worse. The fact that the pieces of cloth covering her had fallen off? Or the very real, very red flush that was swarming her skin, turning her cheeks into open flame.**

 **Before the words she was trying to choke out could get past her lips, something rough and barely considerable as** ** _soft_** **smacked into her face.**

 **"Put that on. I won't have some naked** ** _ju'mai_** **prancing around flashing her speed-bumps at the whiteshells, even** ** _if_** **they laugh, too."**

 **She glanced at the roughspun bag. Inside was a poncho and a form-fitting jumpsuit that-**

 **"The hell am I supposed to do with** ** _this_** **? Dance on a fucking pole?"**

 **The alien scoffed, eyeing the horizon,**

 **"You** ** _could_** **..." He glanced at her. And then he was in her face, faster than she'd thought possible for someone his size.**

 **"Or you can quit. Fucking. Around." He turned his back to her and retrieved a bulky T-21 from where it rested against the pearly white trunk of a tree.**

 **"I tire of this pointless gesturing. Get it on, or I leave you here for the beasts."**

 _ **Fine.**_

 **SEVERAL MINUTES LATER...**

 **It took her longer than she wanted to to pull the skin-tight jumpsuit on, wincing and cursing as quietly as she could as the fabric grazed over burns and cuts that were still fresh. AS she zipped up the last bits, she turned, expecting another cold stare.**

 **Instead she got a glimpse of Dom's broad back, and winced. Beneath the torn fabric of what remained of a shirt, there were more scars than she could count, as well as a fresh bandage with dark stains wrapped around his waistline.**

 **She shrugged on the poncho and squeezed her battered head into her pilot's helmet, which, aside from a very distinct blast mark, was nonetheless still usable.**

 **"Shall we go, then?" Inquired the Feeorin.**

 **She nodded as he tossed her the pistol. And they started walking.**

 **IN THE SHUTTLE** ** _TYDIRIUM_** **, ABOVE DANTOOINE...**

 **THE SUN-BORN SON**

 **Carnor Jax wasn't an idiot. His own lineage was testament enough to that.**

 **Neither was his commanding officer, Aramis Black. Not that their intelligence mattered at the moment.**

 **Carnor just hoped they would survive the crash.**

 **Not even ten fucking minutes past the atmosphere, and his part of the mission was shot. Literally.**

 **But he was glad for it. The ride had simply become too** ** _boring_** **.**

 **Right up until the Commander had pulled a blaster on the pilots, who gunned the ship as fast as it would permit towards the surface. After a brief but satisfyingly pervasive exchange with the fat, sweat-soaked tub named Bloanee, the Commander had settled into his stoic, silent pose.**

 **A quick glimpse told him he had packed too much. He wore the standard-issue gear of a trooper in hazardous conditions; with a bulky, heavy survival pack and an RT-97C. In addition, he had enough food for almost three weeks, a spare set of clothes, a full field-comm kit, and more ammo than he knew what to do with.**

 **He'd even fact-checked with the** ** _Temerarious's_** **quartermaster to make sure he had fit** ** _everything_** **he could onto the confines of his armor.**

 **Always paid to be prepared.**

 **Especially in the event of-**

 **The air left him as the right side of the shuttle ripped away, replaced by fire, and a gaping hole taller than he was. Seven of the recon troopers next to him were sucked out into the open air.**

 **He would never know if they screamed.**

 **The fat prick Bloanee's mouth was an open 'oh' of utter terror, and he had both pudgy arms wrapped around a handrail.**

 **Vaguely glimpsed Commander Black muscling his way towards the cockpit, trailed by at least a half dozen stormtroopers, who barely kept their grip on what few remaining pieces of the ship were left.**

 **As if on cue, another bone wrenching jerk knocked him against the ceiling and blackness took him.**

 **LATER...**

 **In his dream, he was falling.**

 **Falling quite fast, actually. But the ground wasn't getting any closer, and suddenly, he couldn't breathe.**

 **Carnor Jax's eyes snapped open.**

 **Water spilled into the jagged opening of the shuttle's starboard side, adding to the considerable level of liquid already saturating his legs. He looked up.**

 **One of the little compartments of his bulky survival pack had snagged on a tangle of wires hanging from the ceiling.**

 **He quickly untangled himself, fretting as the coils went one by one, and his body got lower and lower to the ground with each pull.**

 **And then his boots were submerged in both water and sludge as he splashed into the water.**

 **His rifle was gone. His hand drifted nervously to his side, and found the handle of his sidearm, waiting to comfort his fear.**

 _ **Fear is a weakness, damnit**_ **.**

 **He glanced over at the cockpit, where the crumpled, black-clad forms of the pilots slouched in their seats. He noticed the distinctive markings and grey tint of the Commander's armor.**

 **The body was face down, hand still close by the emergency thruster switch. He** ** _swore_** **he saw it twitch as he turned away.**

 _ **Probably the shock**_ **.**

 **He waded through more grime and floating branches. And white armored bodies.**

 **Stiff, un-moving hands seemed to claw at him as he made his way to the light beaming into the water shrouded vessel.**

 **Were the walls getting closer?**

 ** _Air_** **.**

 **As soon as the word flashed in his head, he started to breathe harder, and when the oxygen didn't come, he started to run.**

 **As he pulled down another piece of bulkhead, something white flashed in his vision, and he raised a hand in time for it to smash into him from above.**

 **He felt his stomach flip before the water below caught him with a tremendous splash.**

 **Glimpsed the cracked visor of a scout helmet, filled with blood. And something inside was...**

 **He frantically crawled away from it. Breathe getting more erratic by the second.**

 **The small, slug-like thing inside of the corpse's helmet slithered free with a sickening jerk, leaving a trail of thick, red-brown fluid in its wake as it dissapeared into the water.**

 **Tried to suppress the shiver that shot through his spine.**

 _ **Got to get out.**_

 **He ignored the mangled bodies of his comrades as he climbed into the light. And the slugs that slithered in and out of every crack and crevice of the white plastoid armor, leaving a red brown trail in their wake.**

 **When he finally got out, he could almost** ** _feel_** **the un-tainted air hitting his respirators, and his helmet was off.**

 **He breathed deeply. He cast a long look at the lake just beneath his feet, with strange churning and ripples that did nothing to settle his panicked mind.**

 **This whole thing was wrong.**

 **But then again-**

 **He froze.**

 **The barrel of an RT-97C heavy blaster rifle edged into the periphery of his vision.**

 ** _His_** **blaster.**

 **At least he had some pride that it was loaded, and fully operational. Now it was just a hubris for his soul.**

 **His shoulders sagged, and he let out a long sigh.**

 **Turned slowly, more out of a morbid desire to see his killer than any curiosity as to why he was going to die.**

 **"What's your name?" He muttered, as sternly as he could. Death was scaring him.**

 _ **I will not die by a stranger's hand.**_

 **When he finally laid eyes on the man behind him, the head was turned.**

 **He took his chance.**

 **His SE pistol wasn't even clear of its holster before something metal and** ** _sharp_** **was jamming into his side**

 **When he saw the head however, he reflexively pulled his arm back, and in a flash of white, the stranger had his wrist in a biting grip.**

 **And a sharp jab in his ribs halted any possibility of defending himself. He peeked down, and sucked in a breath.**

 **A sword was almost a centimeter past his armor, and he felt the tip brush against his skin, like a cold, sharp, silent cancer waiting for the first sign of weakness.**

 **The hand holding it were clad in white plastoid plating, with bits of muck and three faded red stripes clinging to it.**

 **"My** ** _name_** **isn't important, trooper." Said the helmet, which was also outlined with deep crimson stripes down one side. The iron grip on his wrist faded abruptly, and he felt the blade slide back out with a metallic hiss.**

 **Realized he'd been holding his breathe. Let it out.**

 **The red-striped stormtrooper promptly dropped the RT, its dual drum magazines smacking into the dirt.**

 **Carnor snatched it up. Too quickly. Too nervously. Checked it for damage, and wiped off the sludge as the stranger pulled free an E-11.**

 **"But..." the stranger muttered, rolling his shoulders, "If you** ** _must_** **know, the name is Kanos."**

 **It was almost taboo to break regulations, especially as far as names went. Carnor himself didn't know more than** ** _half_** **of his squad by their names** ** _outside_** **of the stormtrooper legion. But he knew** ** _that_** **name from somewhere...**

 **"** ** _You're_** **Kir Kanos?** ** _The_** **Kir Kanos? From that bombing on Coruscant?" His mind was racing with questions, which were promptly halted by a slight raise of the palm by the stranger. He motioned with his helmet towards the thick layer of thin, thorny trees. Broad canopies housed animals that screeched and cawed at them, like a horrid symphony of nature.**

 **He shouldered his rifle, tempted to shoot one of the little-**

 **"Yes. I'm** ** _him_** **," said the stranger. He twirled the slightly curved long-knife in a small arc, and slid it into its sheathe at the back of his belt.**

 **"Now...can we go?" Kanos asked, raising a bulky blaster.**

 **"We have a rendezvous with death, and he is an impatient watchman."**

 _ **Now comes the hard part,**_ **Carnor Jax thought grimly as he shoved his helmet back on.**

 **The water didn't reach his feet, for which he was grateful, and he began to march, with Kanos taking up a pace alongside him.**

 **ON THE SOUTHERN PLAINS OF DANTOOINE**

 **THE HUNTER**

 **He smelled death before he saw it.**

 **The burnt hair.**

 **The stench of sizzling flesh.**

 **The pile of shit somewhere that hadn't quite lost its...** ** _freshness_** **.**

 **The smell wasn't an issue. But it** ** _was_** **distracting, and he needed all his senses tuned.**

 **A soft hiss and his olfactory dampeners kicked on, blocking the stinging odors ahead. One of the few things still left that actually worked.**

 _ **Never trust a fucking**_ ** _beroya_** **.**

 **His father's words echoed in his head as he prepped his weapons array, staring at the small pillar of smoke he'd been tracking for the past few hours.**

 **He growled as he strained his leg, still raw from his little 'encounter' with something the locals called a Kath Hound. The sap from the Blba tree was thick and corrosive on the wound, and sticky in the worst places, but it would hold.**

 _ **Good new first.**_

 **His swoop bike, a gift from a contact who owed him a favor, was gone. Smashed into so many tumbling pieces when that damn** ** _aruetii_** **shot him, from the safety of a fleeing ship.**

 **From** ** _his_** **ship, to be specific.**

 **This would be the last time he took on a stranger as a partner. Untrustworthy. Unknowable. And dangerous.**

 **He actually paused as the angry, criticizing thoughts raced through his head. It wasn't that he minded them. Much.**

 **They were just** ** _distracting_** **.**

 **He knelt to inspect the pod, when something that glistened in the afternoon sun caught his eye. And he looked at it.**

 **He swore, and snapped his rifle up, scanning the horizon.**

 **A dead, three-eyed Gran lay at his feet, its mouth still agape, and its large, bulbous eyes staring into nothing. A rifle was still clutched in its thick fingers. But he wasn't concerned with appearances. A deep furrow in its chest was; beginning just above the shoulder, and descending through the ribcage, and out through the waistline.**

 **Like some monstrous thing had peeled the alien, same as a ripe fruit.**

 **Smelled like vinegar.**

 **The still steaming bolognes of ruptured organs would have made him cough, on a bad day.**

 **And missing heads, not to mention missing** ** _halfs_** **of heads, were nothing new.**

 **He quickly turned away.**

 **Blood he could handle; even the ruined, severed arms and various chunks of flesh, but this...**

 **He could recognized the handiwork of a lightsaber from miles away.**

 **Very hard to miss.**

 **Smoking pockmarks along the dirt lined the area, testifying to erratic, crazed shooting, born of either desperation or a lack of time.**

 **But whoever did this was obviously pressed for time. And was obviously** ** _not_** **a Jedi, which could mean only one thing.**

 **A chill passed through him. He needed to move. Now.**

 **He ignored the other bodies; a Rodian, farther away, missing both legs. An Ithorian, unarmed, and unequipped for a combat scenario. Near a large boulder, he found a half dozen dead, all in a circle. A pair of Bothans, slashed into so many steaming bloody pieces of fur he couldn't tell the gender.**

 **A stone-faced Weequay, with a large, ragged hole that had opened him up from balls to brains. A Bith whose large, brain-like skull had been sliced in half, with little grisly chunks of pale gray matter spilling into the dirt. He spied a dead Nikto a few yards away. Both halves of the body were being gnawed upon by a group pf small, lizard-like creatures.**

 **He stepped carefully. Even after all these years, he still had his little superstitions. And one was that you didn't mess with the dead.**

 ** _Even dead that look like_** **...** ** _that,_** **he thought, noticing the pale, smooth face of a young man; the only undamaged thing about him. Everything else was...loose.**

 **He looked away quickly.**

 **Always different with a** ** _human_** **body.**

 **A quick sweep of the area confirmed that there were no survivors.**

 **Well, none** ** _here_** **anyway.**

 **He tracked several sets of frantic trails, heading towards the treeline in the distance, followed by a methodically slow set of thick footprints, heading in the same direction.**

 _ **Interesting. What would HE be doing h-**_

 **A deep, echoing thrum snapped his attention to the sky, like the chorus of a thousand brass horns. The triangular, boxy prow of an Imperial Star Destroyer was cresting over the mountain.**

 **He scowled, unable to make sense of it all. Pieces that should've been coming together weren't, and he suddenly felt the weight of the last sleepless days, and the forty something hours of fighting through the wilderness.**

 **The sun was going down soon, and he'd learned what small mercies firelight could bring, out here.**

 **He found a tree, one of the gnarled, white, thorny ones, and settled in after almost an hour of planning; escape routes, potential weak points, places where he could see the majority of the surrounding area.**

 **After he had settled his restless instincts, which screamed at him that** ** _something_** **was wrong, he closed his eyes.**

 _ **Something is ALWAYS wrong when you're a**_

 **And tried to sleep.**

 **IN THE SOUTHWESTERN FORESTS OF DANTOOINE**

 **THE CAPTAIN**

 **The rain had started earlier in the morning, before the sun made its ascendance into a clear, unaltered sky. It smelled like rain ought to smell.**

 **It also clung to clothes like glue, and soaked through even the thickest article of clothing in seconds. And the slightest bump into one of the damn** ** _trees_** **would send a veritable waterfall splashing onto someone's back.**

 **After seven standard hours, it was beginning to wain on the soldiers of Crimson Company, who huddled under a large, pale rock at the foot of a small hill, hanging over a pool of water, which was mostly run-off from the torrent above.**

 **The captain had asked himself many questions over the course of the last twenty four hours.**

 _ **How were the Imperials here, in one of their most secluded theaters of operation?**_

 _ **Why didn't the Hammer flee with the rest, as protocol dictated?**_

 _ **How many of the other escape pods made it down?**_

 _ **Is that...Vader? IS IT?**_

 **For a time, he believed that would be his last thought. The whole thing was hard to wrap his head around.**

 **He was clad in faded tan fatigues, consisting of a thick, hooded vest adorned with armor pads, crudely stenciled with the red starbird of the Rebel Alliance. The top of his bald scalp was dry, thanks to the visored helmet on his head, though the rain still dripped beneath, sending warm trails of water down his creased cheeks.**

 **He smiled more than he should have, but not now. He silently cursed whatever cosmic fuck-up had enabled rain to soak him now, of all days. Somewhere in the distance a rapid series of blaster shots disrupted the soft staccato of rainfall, followed by muffled shouts and silence.**

 **The figure closest to Sinn, a human woman who tightened the piece of tarp covering her body and her lengthy projectile rifle, never breaking her stare into the distance. A small cloud of smoke erupted from beneath the folds of the tarp.**

 **She was smoking. Again.**

 **Damnit, he'd** ** _told_** **her about non-regulation items. Especially deathsticks.**

 **He started forward, but thought better of it, chancing a glance at the three ragged scars that lined the right half of her face, from her chin, through her eye, now useless, and all the way to the temple, where her hair was mostly shaved off, leaving the rest to drape over the other side.**

 **A second figure, more than a foot taller and lankier, also huddled in a tarp like a hooded cloak, rotated towards her.**

 **"Yew** ** _know_** **thooze are bad for yew, young one." Stuttered the alien in its usual, haphazard attempt at Basic. The cloak parted to reveal deep greenish-blue skin, a pair of torsos, outlined with dark tribal paint, and two long, muscular arms connected to each one.**

 **The bottom limbs extended towards the woman, who waved a hand crossly, and lifted her face to briefly scowl at her companion, before shrinking further into the folds of her tarp.**

 **"Shady's fine, Sozen," he said, motioning with his head towards the rock, where the others were patching themselves up. The Myneyrsh nodded slowly and loped away to the outcropping, shrugging off his tarp to reveal the four separate blaster rifles stowed away in leather holsters across his back. Curved daggers in sheathes lined his ribs, and a criss-crossing belt lined with grenades and ammo pouches ran across his upper chest.**

 **A tattered pair of trousers covering his stilted legs and a long loincloth were his only clothes, as he abhorred modern ideas of fashion, whether practical or civil.**

 **"Incoming!" Came the scream.**

 **Sinn didn't hesitate, diving for the nearest piece of shrubbery, despite knowing in his head that it wouldn't do a** ** _damn_** **thing, if those TIE-Fighters found their marks.**

 **A series of muffled thumps in the distance. Trees cracking and splintering. Getting closer.**

 **A flash of green fire burrowed itself in the ground next to the white rock, sending up a plume of mud and leaves, as well as an arm that sprinkled blood across his face as it tumbled away.**

 **Didn't know whose it was. Didn't matter.**

 **He waved Lieutenant Saragosi over; the Iktotchi's pale cheek horns separating him from the dense foliage. With him was Crimson Company's head comm/tech specialist, which wasn't saying much, considering what had happened to the others.**

 **The Selkath, (whose name he recalled was Gantu) with Saragosi was old, with blue skin so dark that it appeared black, and tiny clusters of barnacle lining its cephalic lobes and scalp, with criss-crossing scars along its forehead from fights decades past. Gantu's left arm was missing, replaced by a bulky, cheap robotic knock-off that whirred and rattled.**

 **He would do. Radioed the other squad leaders. Got nothing but static from two of them, which could mean anything, really.**

 **Sergeant Rockbrook was too busy roaring obscenities at someone in the background to hear. Or his radio operator was dead.**

 **"-mperials closing...uckers don't know...here y-" Was all he got from Zaalore. But** ** _that_** **alone was enough to quiet his mind on the subject of Red Squad, and the bogs to the west.**

 **It also meant that the Empire knew where they were, and it was only a matter of time.**

 **From what he could gather, Quill, Barlex, and their squads were holding under heavy pressure from a vengeful company of stormtroopers, with a disconcerting amount of Imperial firepower and heavy metal waiting only a few klicks east.**

 **Hood was pulling back from the same area, having suffered heavy losses in the initial mad dash for the trees, following his 'landing'.**

 **Prince Charming was making hit-and-run attacks on patrols, landing craft, sentries; anything worth scratching at.**

 **He waved over Preacher; busy with one of his famous 'universal' sermons.**

 **Bunch of bullshit really, but it gave the men something to mutter about in the rain.**

 **The Weequay had a braid almost as long as Rowan was tall, and a set of mutton chops that consumed his face, though bits of its were still singed from the air strikes.**

 **He'd been told to cut it. Rowan wondered if he should push the matter or not, as the alien squatted next to him.**

 **"Somethin ta say, yes?" He had a glint in his eye that bespoke many violent things to come.**

 **Rowan pondered, cupping his chin reflexively.**

 **The others made their way over.**

 **Doc Beacher, with his bloody bandages, fuzzy white hair, and eyes so sunken that he appeared to be weeping.**

 **With him were his goons; one a heavily built, amber-skinned Twi-Lek, who Rowan remembered being called Faldrin, while the other was a quiet Snivvian with a bushy beard and very few teeth left. Both with permanent sulks.**

 **Too many nights spent holding down screaming kids as they cut off bad limbs, sewed up holes, and made empty promises to corpses in the making.**

 **But that was them.**


End file.
